Feel
by iS2.coheed.and.cambria
Summary: Death Fic. Because he couldn’t sleep now. Not while his only little brother was right in front of him close enough to see, but not close enough to reach. And he was dying.


This just sort of came to me after a real life experience so I thought I would write it down before I forgot. Please review and let me know if it's good or bad or whatever!

**(( I made a bunch of corrections, because I was unhappy with a lot of parts in this story. So nothing was taken out or changed, just some stuff was added ))**

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It had been three days. Three days since he had slept. And his vitality was quickly beginning to fade into the weakness he was so desperately trying to fight off. Because he couldn't sleep now. Not while his only little brother was right in front of him close enough to see, but not close enough to reach. And he was dying.

Dean had spent these last three days searching and staying awake only by the contrite feelings that ate at his body every second he wasn't with Sam. This had to be his fault. It had to be. Because no matter what happened to him, Dean didn't watch after him. Dean didn't make sure nothing bad happened to his Sammy.

He had done everything he could in the past three days, but he would never be able to believe that.

But the second Dean saw his brother. The only thing he had left lying there on the floor in the dark alleyway in the middle of nowhere, he ran. He seized the only adrenaline his body had left to produce and ran with everything he had to his brother's side throwing himself next to him. And then he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Sammy was broken; his body was lying awkwardly on the cold and damp cement. He was loosing blood in more places than Dean could count, and thick bruises surrounded his closed puppy dog eyes. Dean had hated the affect they had on him before, but now all he wanted was to see them open and look up at him. Any other person wouldn't have been able to tell this was Sam. But Dean could, Dean always knew his Sam.

The older man frantically began to try and take care of his brother. Calling out his name several times trying to get his brother to open his eyes. He touched his brother's shoulders gently, but then soon, regrettably, flinched away. He was so scared to touch his brother and mess him up more. He prayed as hard he could, to the god he suddenly believed in, just to let Sam open his eyes.

_God, Sam just open your eyes._

And he did. Their tacit connection was more powerful than any pleas could be. His eyes slowly fluttered open and gazed up at Dean as a small smile crossed his lips.

"You found me…" he whispered so quietly, Sam didn't even hear it. Sam breathed one shaky sigh of relief. Finally his brother was here. Finally his final prayers had been answered.

All Dean could do is nod. His brother was dying and as much as he wanted the answers to his questions, he needed to keep his brother alive. He had to.

He quickly began to work on his brother, desperately trying to find the place he was bleeding from the most so he could stop it. But he couldn't, the only thing he was doing was causing his brother un-needed pain. He watched every wince and every time his eyes squeezed shut in pain. He listened to every moan and ever shallow shaky breathe that left his brother's damaged throat.

"De…" Sam whispered looking up at his desperate brother, as he painfully lifted his hand and placed it gently on top of his brother's. Sam was silently asking his brother to stop, to stop the pain. He just wanted to rest. He had struggled for so long to stay alive, but now he was tired and just wanted to sleep. He barely even considered if he did, he surely wouldn't wake up.

"Sam what?" Dean snapped before quickly regretting being mean to his brother when these could be his final moments.

"Just rest…" Sam choked out before breaking into two or three coughs.

"You expect me to just sit here and watch you…"Dean stopped before the 'd' word left his mouth. He could never say that word when he was talking about his brother.

Dean glanced down at his brother as his eyes began to close and reopen again. He knew there was nothing he could do for Sam right now. The only thing he could have done was get here three days ago, before any of this could happen. He did the only thing he could think of and whipped out his cell phone. He dialed 911 with a shaking finger and quickly explained to the woman where they were. Once he heard, "Help is on the way," the phone snapped back shut. Dean reached down and pulled Sam into his lap. He cradled his head and shoulders in his arms, and slowly rocked him back and forth trying his best to make his brother as comfortable. Sam almost wept when Dean did this. Sam was afraid that Dean would be afraid of him when he saw him like this, that his brother would just think he was weak. But this almost insignificant action meant the world to Sam. It meant everything.

"Hear that Sammy? Help is on the way, ok?" Dean said in a soothing voice, while brushing his brother's bangs out of his eyes.

Sam didn't respond to Dean's statement just continued to focus on breathing and trying to hold on to life a little while longer for his brother, not for himself.

"De…" Sam started trying to say probably the most important thing he would ever say to his brother, but couldn't continue. Each syllable he spoke felt like an elephant stepping on his throat.

Dean searched his brother for his continuation but then realized that he couldn't continue; he was too exhausted to speak, "No Sammy, don't you die on me! You stay alive. You fight!" Dean yelled at his brother, now his tearing eyes becoming more and more visible.

Dean's calls for his brother to stay alive cut right to Sam's heart. He didn't want to leave his brother, not like this.

Sam's eyes opened but then quickly closed back up. His eyelids felt like two weights that he would never be able to lift. All Sam could think about was what Dean has said not long after they had found they're dad.

"_I'm the one that has to bury you!"_

He should have fought harder; he should have tried harder to stay alive. Because he knew that this would destroy his brother, he didn't know if Dean could take another loss in their family. Who would he have if he didn't have Sam?

"Sam did you hear me?" Dean yelled frantically. Dean was drowning. He didn't know what to do, and as he watched his brother struggle to take in oxygen, he felt like his air supply was running out too.

He checked for a pulse again and found the faintest one he had ever found on a person.

"Sam I said you fight it!" he yelled down crying without control, "I've done everything I can for you, now please. Do something for me!"

Sam tried so hard to open his eyes. He had to; he had to stay alive for Dean. He tried so hard to build up enough strength to tell his brother he was so thankful for everything he had done for him. He wanted to say he loved him, and he would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn't for him. He needed to look at his brother one last time. He tried so hard to lift just one eyelid. Just one.

_Please. Just let me see him; just let him see me look at him one last time._

But his eyes would not open. He was slipping into the unknown darkness he had only read and seen movies about. All he could do before loosing himself completely was say one last word.

"Sorry…" he whispered.

Dean wanted to scream no, don't die or don't say you're sorry. Don't give up! Try harder! Think about your future! Think about all the people you're going to save if you just get better! Think of me! He wanted to say anything to his brother to keep him alive. But right after his brother whispered his almost silent apology Dean felt Sam's body go tense and then quickly limb. His breathing stopped. His pulse stopped. Everything just stopped. Except Dean, Dean slumped over clutching his brother's lifeless body as this inscrutable feeling overtook him. He was paling but Dean didn't notice, his eyes stayed clenched as shut as they possibly could, maybe if he couldn't see this it wouldn't feel real. Maybe he would open his eyes and Sam would be breathing again or Sam would be shaking him telling him to wake up from the worst dream of his life. Because the grief was already washing over him in tidal waves. Because he had felt his brother die, he felt his brother leave. His arms that had been wrapped around his brother had suddenly felt different. Like the smallest yet most painful electric shock had just struck them. He had felt his brother leave. And now he could only do one thing. Cry.


End file.
